


Aversion in Partnership Extras and Alternate POVs

by starburst_sunbeam



Series: Aversion in Partnership and Related Verse [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-17
Updated: 2015-06-16
Packaged: 2018-04-04 19:03:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4149327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starburst_sunbeam/pseuds/starburst_sunbeam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ficlets that come from the online novel Aversion in Partnership, most of which were already posted on the tumblr starburst-sunbeam and are now also being put up on AO3.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chp 20 Luc POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so, in chapter 20, the scene in which Austin and Bennett find Luc was actually originally written in Luc's POV a while ago, and I re-worked it into Bennett's POV for the story. 
> 
> So here is the scene from Luc's POV, complete with some conversation after Bennett falls asleep.

Bennett and Austin find him sitting in front of a convenience store downtown. Luc has no idea what time it is, but it's late enough that he's surprised to see them. Or early enough, it's all relative.

The look on Bennett's face when he sees the bottle that Luc's clutching by the neck makes him wish he'd drunk from it enough not to notice it.

"It's not beer," Luc says, looking at the pavement instead of at Ben's face. "It's just soda."

"I'm relieved," Ben says, and Luc can see when his knees drop in front of Luc. He looks up, startled at both the words and action.

"What are you doing here?" he asks instead.

"Came looking for you, Frenchie." Austin says, standing behind Bennett's shoulder. The streetlights light up his blond hair, so it almost looks like a light of its own. Luc blinks at him.

"I'm Canadian, not French," Luc says for some reason.

"You speak French." Austin shrugs.

Luc watches Bennett roll his eyes, unseen by Austin where he's standing. "Anyway, whatever you are, we came to find you."

Austin hums, and Luc gets the feeling that there's something he's thinking of or wants to say.

"Come on," Ben says, holding a hand out.

Luc presses his lips together and stares resolutely at the floor.

"Luc?"

Luc can't stand the gentle question in Ben's voice.

"I'm not going back," Luc whispers. "Not yet."

Bennett frowns, and then lets out a sigh.

"I'm sorry about the competition," Luc says.

Bennett rolls his eyes, and then moves to sit next to Luc. "You can go back, Austin. I'm going to stay until he's ready to go."

Luc stares at Bennett. "What? But-- You'll miss the competition."

"It's not the end of the world," Ben says, which makes Luc think it is, because there's no way  _Bennett_  just said that.

"It's okay, Ben," Luc assures.

Ben rolls his eyes. "I'm not just leaving you here."

"But--"

"Look, Luc," Bennett says, looking so serious that Luc stops. "I know I might not... I'm not a good friend. I don't show much besides what I care about school, but I do care about you guys. You're more important."

"Aw," Austin coos, and Luc knows that if looks could kill then Bennett's eyes could drop him dead.

"Okay," Luc says.

Ben stands up, and both he and Austin haul Luc up together.

* * *

It isn't until they're on the bus home that Luc notices Bennett's wearing Austin's hoodie.

Ben seems to be nodding off, his tiredness hitting now that he's found Luc. It's with surprise that he watches Ben lean almost unconsciously onto Austin, nestling into the space between his neck and shoulders.

Luc notices the hoodie then.

Austin smirks at the way Luc's blinking at them. "He dragged me out of bed when he noticed you were gone. He'd already been all over the hotel and hoped I could help. He didn't even take a jacket; I lent him my hoodie."

Luc looks over at Ben, now completely asleep on Austin's shoulder. He looks more peaceful than Luc's ever seen him, his face fully relaxed with sleep. Luc's a little bit surprised that he feels trusting and safe enough with Austin for this, but he's glad too. If anyone deserves some rest and looking out for, it's Ben.

"How much sleep has he gotten?" Luc asks quietly.

Austin runs a hand through Bennett's hair as he responds, "None, I think."

Luc blinks for a couple seconds. "What?"

"I told you, he'd already been all over the hotel looking for you before he got me. He's probably gotten an hour or two, tops, if he noticed you were gone partway through the night instead of noticing you weren't back yet before he went to sleep."

Luc sits in silence for a minute, mostly watching Ben.

Austin looks up at Luc, and then says in the most quiet and gentle voice Luc's ever heard from him, "He was really worried about you."

"I see that now," Luc replies. He feels vaguely aching, like he owes something to the sleeping peacefulness of Ben's face, feels a need to apologize to it.

The bus is comfortably silent for a few minutes; it's empty except for them at this hour. (Luc vaguely thinks that they're lucky it was still running.) Ben's asleep, and Austin looks oddly careful of him.

"You have feelings for him," Luc says quietly.

Austin looks up then, and raises an eyebrow. There's the Austin Luc knows, suddenly back full force. "I have feelings for a lot of things. Movies, homework, tripping on the sidewalk, pretty much everything."

Luc barely keeps from rolling his eyes. "How do you want me to say it? Saying you like him is too vague, you'll just joke it off again. Saying you love him is too serious."

Austin's silent for consecutive minutes.

"Well?" Luc eventually prompts, sounding slightly challenging. Ben deserves this much from Luc.

"I have feelings for him," Austin eventually decides. He looks down at Ben's head on his shoulder, eyes indiscernible.

"How long has this been going on?" Luc asks, instead of pushing it further.

Austin laughs. "I don't even know. It's complicated."

Luc blinks. "What do you mean?"

"You remember how much he disliked me at first?" Austin says. He sounds almost fond.

"Yeah," Luc responds.

"Once we got into an argument, and I asked him if he was done talking, and he told me to make him. I kissed him."

Luc gapes at him.

Austin laughs at his expression. "I know. I meant to mess with him more, but it didn't work quite as I expected. I got messed up right along with him."

Luc can't imagine it. He remembers how Ben had reacted to Austin, getting short and icy, irritable in a way that was only noticeable if you knew him. He can't imagine what Ben's reaction would have been, but he's surprised that he's able to relax around Austin now.

"He grew on me," Austin says.

"I guess you grew on each other," Luc replies. He thinks that he has to ask Bennett about this later.

After they've all gotten more sleep, that is.

The bus pulls up to the hotel, and Austin gently shakes Ben awake. Ben blinks blearily up at Austin, and Austin tells him quietly that they're back. Luc feels like he's intruding on something.

They stumble off the bus, Ben rubbing his eyes. When they make it up to the elevator and to their floor, Austin turns away from them.

"Can I trust you to get him to your room?" Austin asks Luc. Ben scowls at him. "Not to go off and have him chasing after you all night again?"

"Yes," Luc promises, completely serious. Austin, seeing his face, nods and then disappears towards his room.

Luc follows Ben back to their room. He knows that Bennett's waiting until Luc falls asleep before he's willing to drift off, but Luc doesn't mind.

The next day, Austin is obviously grumpy during breakfast, and mostly at Luc. Ben seems to have gone back to being apathetic, and Luc would almsot think it was a dream, it not for the tiredness pulling at his face.

Cooper seems intent on being offended on Luc's behalf, but Luc doesn't mind so much.

He knows Austin didn't come out last night for him.


	2. Chp 16 Austin POV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ficlet prompted on my tumblr, now being reposted here. Austin's POV of the scene in Scholastic Club after Peter called Bennett messed up.

Austin will be the first to admit that he’s not always a nice guy. In fact, he can be a hell of an asshole — he thinks messing with people is funny, always has, any person more complicated and unique than the math and physics problems he tries.

Bennett’s like that, fascinating in that he’s either simmering below the surface or bursting out all he has at full throttle, an all or nothing response, trying to shut things down and only letting it out when it gets to be too much, and then there’s everything at once.

Austin will admit he frequently pushes Bennett too far, did before and does even now when he’s becoming more aware of boundaries. Bennett causes a caustic ache in his chest, almost an apology, something he rarely feels. Sometimes he thinks he pushes just because he doesn’t want to be sorry.

But he’s never said the kind of shit Peter said to Ben.

Jasmine calls him after school, when he’s just gotten home and is cutting up a block of cheese to make with crackers for both himself and Gem. He’s casual about it; Jasmine doesn’t really contact any of them regularly outside of school, but he doesn’t think much of it.

She’s practically spitting when he picks up.

“I hate him, I hate him,” she’s saying, and it sounds like she squeezed the words out between gritted teeth.

“Who?” Austin asks, wondering if her rage should be enough to make him wary instead of just bewildered about what she’s talking about.

“Peter,” she grits out.

“Oh,” he says, “I could have told you that.”

Jasmine makes a noise down the line, crossed between anger and frustration, almost a growl. Austin jerks the phone away from his ear for a moment before he puts it back, confused and concerned, trying to keep up.

“You have no idea,” she snarls. “That fucker —”

“Whoa, okay, back up,” He tells her, bewildered. “What’s going on? What did he do?”

Jasmine’s silent for a moment. “Oh yeah, I forgot you weren’t there.”

Austin has to resist the urge to snort, pressing the heel of his hand to his forehead. “Okay then. Backpedal for me, Peter has done what?”

“Basically he started calling me a slut because he’s jealous I look at other boys, which is bad but like whatever, I can cream him on my own, but then when Ben tried to step between us Peter told him to back off by telling him he was ‘twice as fucked up as the rest of us’, and I quote.”

Austin can feel himself go silent, his heart and stomach burning up with the heat of anger, coiling tight, making himself unable to speak for a moment.

Austin doesn’t always like Bennett. He thinks he’s too high-strung, puts too much merit on containing control over himself and even others, thinks he can be too easily upset and sensitive, can be pretentious and superior. But he likes him, he’s beyond denying that at this point, looks at Ben even when he’s angry and feels that fondness for him, knows that Ben is even more good things compounded on with the delicate, tempestuous personality he carries around. Ben is brilliant and organized and loyal, well-spoken and considerate and dedicated. He knows that Ben in any given situation gives his all, tries his hardest, values success; knows that if the stakes were given so that any of them were more at risk than he was he would give everything and more for them. He runs himself dry and Austin thinks he’s foolish and naive, making himself something of a scapegoat for still believing its not enough and not being very good at hiding that feeling.

But Austin admires Bennett. Probably more than he ever has anyone else.

And ultimately, even with his changing attitude, the way he’s starting to soften to the most sharp-edged boy he’s ever met, it all comes down to that.

Austin takes a moment, working his jaw and wetting his lips a little, not knowing when he clenched his teeth so hard that he has to actively try to stop before he can speak.

“Why the  _fuck_  would he say that?” Austin grits.

“Now we’re on the same page,” Jasmine replies.

* * *

 

Austin calls Bennett next.

“Hello?” Bennett says when he picks up the phone, the same slow, drawling tone that Austin’s come to realize is the way Ben starts when he knows Austin’s on the other line.

“Peter’s a dick,” he says without preamble.

Ben’s quiet for only a beat before he responds, “Who told you?”

“Jazz,” Austin answers, easy, knowing that Jasmine wouldn’t care if Austin shared that. Then, to get his point across and not off topic, he repeats, “He’s a dick.”

“I know,” Bennett says, and Austin waits a beat, thinking there must be something else, some disclaimer on anger even with the expectation of Peter’s less than close-companion behaviour.

“That’s it?” Austin says to him, “Just ‘ _I know_ ’?”

Austin can hear the huff of breath Ben sends down the line. “Look, he’s just… He’s being Peter.”

Austin can’t believe this. Bennett can snap at him for pushing him, and Austin will admit there are times he’s deserved it, but Peter said much worse, knew the soft spot to hit and had no real reason to target it in the first place, was supposed to guard Ben instead of using his weakness. It makes Austin burn with anger. “That’s not an excuse.”

"I know that too,” Ben sighs, and he sounds tired, and Austin doesn’t want to fight with him when he sounds exhausted instead of upset, but he finds he’s in a strange case of fighting Bennett about Bennett.

“Then explain to me why you sound so calm about this whole thing,” Austin pushes.

Ben doesn’t reply for a moment, and there’s a second where Austin thinks he’s not going to reply at all. “Peter is a fucking dick, and I’m not happy with him, but there’s nothing I can do from here.” Austin’s about to get annoyed, Bennett always too reasonable and pragmatic to the point of self-vulnerability, putting fairness before morality. But then, Ben surprises him by adding, casual as anything, “And I get the feeling Jasmine’s probably going to beat him up.”

Austin snorts despite himself, caught off guard. “The last part I can give you.”

“So,” Bennett starts, and Austin straightens, recognizing the careful tone he’s speaking with, the one where he’s about to spin a rope with words, spin you around, and trip you on it, “even though you must have heard I walked off immediately after this happened even though Jasmine tried to catch me, you still decided to call me?”

Austin’s silent. He wouldn’t know what to say even if he thought there was a right answer, even if he was the type of person to recite apologies by rote rather than feeling.

A small laugh trills down the line, so soft Austin hardly thinks he’s really heard it, and he this irrational wish that he could dive down the phone line, hear that in person instead of distorted and tinny through the phone line. Bennett speaks then, words wrapped honey sweet and warm even when Austin thinks he doesn’t mean to say them that way, telling Austin, “You’re ridiculous.”

Austin takes a deep breath. “You’re okay?” he asks instead, too tempted to tease Ben in what’s like their pattern, and god does he want to, but he needs to make sure Ben’s okay, needs something he can’t name, something that makes him keep his distance out of caution and fear even while drifting closer, pushing and pushing because acting the asshole is easier than being honest sometimes, even with himself.

“I’m good,” Bennett affirms.

Austin feels some of the hardened tension in his body soften and unknot itself. He feels too close to something fragile to the touch, something he doesn’t trust himself to hold, so he pulls back. Teases Ben, beginning a cycle all anew, no fear of a deviation to something that could change them both from what Austin knows, even when he already feels like he’s shifted at the core.

* * *

 

Austin sees Bennett the next day, expects him to look different, paler, drawn, but he looks the same as always, dark hair sweeping over his eyes and across his forehead to where he’s tucked it behind his ears. Austin greets him by dropping an arm across his shoulders, a habit formed from the way it used to make Ben practically freeze solid, but has since become just simple routine. Bennett doesn’t tense any more, doesn’t flinch, and Austin misses it in the sense that Ben used to be so  _easy_  to wreck, but now he gets warmth beneath his arm and the feel of Bennett’s shoulders rolling slightly as he speaks, like beneath the dry tone of his voice his body gives small twitches and tremors of reaction and emotion just barely quelling itself beneath the surface.

He lets Ben herd him off to their shared classes, grins at him and bothers him, but Ben just rolls his eyes. Austin isn’t sure when Ben relaxed like this, when Austin moved from antagonizing him to just trying to ruffle him, when they made a new normal. He’s not sure he wants to know. Not sure he could take the answer.

He finds the group at their lockers after school, thankfully having not left for the club left, and Bennett’s frowning at his locker, that small, tight one where his face goes blank except for the tightness of his mouth and burn of his eyes, and Austin knows that that’s the one he reserves for hurt over anger, when someone mentions their parents’ coming to one of their competitions and Ben stays silent, when one of the group mentions something they’re prideful of themselves in and Ben gets this clench of his hands like  _I need to be enough_.

Austin hates that look.

He crowds up into their space, louder than he probably needs to be, but Bridget looks at him with big, grateful eyes, seeming to think he’s a better balm for Ben than he probably is. Bennett looks back at him, eyebrow cocked, and there’s barely even the slightest shift in his body language, but the expression is gone, and he’s turned himself towards Austin slightly, head looking over his shoulder. It’s only just an opening, only the slightest slice bared, but Austin will take it.

They walk as a group, but Austin nudges up at Bennett’s back the whole way, bordering past the line of annoyance, his judgement of such aided by Bennett’s glowering looks back, but he feels aware that with each step they get closer to Peter, and he feels coiled tight, thinking of the look on Bennett’s face when he stared into his locker, disconnected from the world.

They set inside, and Bennett’s looking at him, but Austin’s focus is immediately inside the classroom, and he locks eyes with Peter right away. “Peter,” he says, and Bennett stops, and he takes a moment before he stops too, purposely bumping right up against Ben’s back. He hesitates only a moment, reaching out a hand to place on Bennett’s lower back, like the next logical step in events. He thinks it should be more, knows how they light up when they argue or kiss, but it’s just warm instead, seeping, dimmed heat.

Bennett’s not looking at either of them, but Austin can feel the silent rattle of his breath is his chest, settling himself.

“What?” Peter says to him, standing up straight from where he was leaning against one of the desks, jaw set stubbornly but a wavering look in his eye, like he knows he’s wrong but will argue it none the less.

Austin’s got his chin jutted up to look at Peter, head raised, but from the bottom of his vision he can still see Ben close his eyes, turning in on himself. He speaks at Peter, “You’re one of my closest friends, and I can understand you losing your head, but if you pull that kind of shit again it’s not going to fly with me, okay?”

Bennett looks up at him then, but Austin’s only vaguely aware of it, focus locked onto Peter, determined to get him to listen, to see, to change. Peter’s kind of a dick too, lets his mouth go before his head, would rather be martyred than ignored, but Austin likes him nonetheless. He’s an easy guy to hang out with, casual, unlike Ben who’s wound so tight, unlike Cooper and Luc who are wrapped around each other in every aspect of their lives, unlike Bridget who’s so sweet and soft, unlike Alison who practically runs into conversations blind, unlike Jasmine who’s so confident and straight forward that sometimes it’s hard to get her to unwind and take a competition for fun.

Peter’s a little easier, can play video games like any of the friends he had before he moved, can talk to Gem but doesn’t hover, shares some of Austin’s humour and sometimes too caustic words. But god knows that he could very well have crossed a line, one only Bennett gets to dictate, and if Ben uses that as the split of a battle field then Austin’s going to stand on Ben’s side.

Peter must see something in his eyes, or maybe he really just feel the blow of letting his words leave him too quick, the tendency to purposely be too harsh in order to get people out of the way, make it easier to get to his focus. “Yeah,” he says, and dips his eyes when Ben glances up at him. “I really am sorry.”

Bennett’s quiet only for a moment, and Austin thinks maybe Peter really did step too far, Ben’s confidence shaken, but then he cocks his chin out slightly, that sharp glint in his eyes like ice, an unshaken belief in his place as leader in this room, of being followed. And Austin hates when Ben presumes like that, but he knows enough by now to know that it’s true — here, in the club, in the room, Ben’s in charge, and any single one of them would follow. “I am not going to take this sort of attitude and questioning of my leadership at any sort of competition, are we clear? You  _listen_  to me.”

There’s no threat in Bennett’s words, but there’s a firmness, a force. Austin finds he pays too much attention to when Ben’s voice gets like that, quietly commanding, effortlessly in charge.

He can see Peter reacting to it too, and Peter has even more experience in the room with Ben in charge, of following his lead, but he shakes it off none the less. A hesitant smile pulls his lip. “Funny that you specify that. ‘Listen to me when we’re in a club setting.’”

Austin flicks eyes at Bennett, but Ben’s not even looking at him, completely unflinching and unchanged from before Peter spoke. “I respect you most there,” he says, almost no inflection in his tone, and Austin thinks that the way he speaks it like fact makes more of an impact than anything.

Peter flinches. Austin doesn’t blame him, but he’s not comforting him either.

Jasmine walks in then, her walk strong and assured as always, but she stops when she sees them all in the room, gazes locked. “Wait, what the fuck, are we all buddy-buddy again?”

Austin manages not to laugh, pleased in a strange way that Jasmine’s just as unapologetic as ever. He hops up to sit on a desk, sharing with her, “I’m getting the feeling that depends on whether Peter’s willing to man-up enough to actually give a follow up with his actions instead of just cowering until things have blown over.”

He carefully avoids Ben’s flat, disapproving look, sliding off the desk as Bennett continually stabs him with blunt fingers.

“Good, do I get an apology too?” Jasmine asks Peter, voice deceptively light.

Peter scowls, so Austin takes that and tells Jasmine, “He didn’t even look Ben in the eye when he gave him one, so I wouldn’t count on it.”

“We’re both still standing  _right here_ ,” Bennett gripes, and then prods Austin in the side until he finally sits in an actual chair.

He looks up, Ben standing under the florescent lights, lips pressed together and looking like he’s resisting the urge to put his hands on his hips, and Austin likes the way he looks that way so much it’s ridiculous.

Bennett’s attention gets caught away from him as the rest of the club comes in, and Austin could hop back onto the desk to fuck with Ben, but he seems to have settled somewhat, and this isn’t one of the cases where Austin wants to be the match that lights the fire, stir things up.

Oh, and they do a faux debate where he and Jasmine absolutely murder Peter, and Austin expects Ben to be upset, but he seems believe that Jasmine has just as much right to handle her own end of the anger, basically letting Austin completely off from inspection, so, win.


	3. Cooper Ficlet

It takes Cooper a long time to realize he's in love with Luc.

He meets him when they're young, but not too young, remembers a life before Luc was his friend but knows most of it was trivial, unimportant, throwaway. He doesn't see how his macaroni art from third grade could possibly be an accomplishment, milestone or not, his Mom still keeping all of his school projects stacked up against each other in boxes, not when he can remember going to a middleschool baseball game with Luc, his eyes bluer than anything Cooper's ever seen, so much so that it didn't seem like it was just the sun lighting them up so much as it was that Luc was making that blue all his own, swirling, bright colour.

He's loved him for a long time, he thinks, falling into it slowly. He's been in love with Luc a long time, and loved him even longer. He can remember being in seventh grade when they met and thinking  _he'll be my best friend_  nearly right away, fledgling, jumping the gun maybe, but he was right. There was a certainty of his heart in Luc, even before he knew enough about Luc to trust him simply for being Luc, for being each other's in a way they were with no one else.

There is no great moment, no dramatic change, instead it's the simplest of days, Luc coming over to his as they watch some six-part series on the History Channel, Luc getting a call in the commercial break and trying to rush through it before the show comes back on, Cooper laughing at him. Luc's mostly in English, slipping the occasional French in out of frustration like he does when he gets overemotional and starts to cross his language signals. It's there, Luc murmuring " _Papa, ne pas,_ " voice grumpy while Cooper can hear his mother puttering in the kitchen behind him, his sister banging around in her room upstairs.

He realizes Luc makes it home. He makes it complete. He fits in just as easily here as the rest of them do, one of them just as easily and completely. Luc, with his pale skin verging on pink, light hair and eyes, French and English slipping light out his mouth unlike Cooper's own English, weighed down by the heavy sounds of his mother's native language, adopted by him and his sister, even if they never learned to speak it on their own.

Luc gets off the phone, disgruntled, shaking his head, hair falling off where he'd brushed it away from his face to fall just above his eyes. He's beautiful, and it startles Cooper, because he's been looking, filing away little things like this, moments and appearances of his best friend, and it's like his subconscious kept them to spring on him, because it feels like the way he's always looked at Luc suddenly shifts, everything thrown into a different connotation. He's still Cooper's best friend, always will be, but suddenly that sharp humour and sarcastic tilt to his smile and soft French and careful hands mean something different, something blooming sharp and warm, making his chest ache.

"I will never understand my Dad's ability to perfectly time conversations," Luc says, shaking his head, that tone in his voice that says he wants to be annoyed but is too fond to manage it, and Cooper smiles up at him from where he's sitting on the couch and watching Luc stand, seeming taller and  _more_ , and pretends he isn't in love with him.

He goes on pretending for a long time.


	4. Chp 5 Austin POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Austin's POV of his and Bennett's first kiss.

Austin wins the Spelling Bee Sectional, and he can see Bennett take second place, trying to congratulate Austin with his smile split brittle along the seam of his lips.

Austin accepts the praises of the rest of the Scholastic Club, Luc still snorting over Cooper, Bridget beaming at him like he’s just caught the sun in his hands and the whole future’s bright.

Bennett slips away as soon as the others have closed in. Austin doesn’t know if he meant to be subtle or just wanted to get away as quickly as possible, but he still notices. The group of them drifts off, and Austin’s parents come up, his Dad clapping a hand firm onto his shoulder and his Mom brushing the hair off his forehead and bending him down to kiss forehead.

“I’m so glad,” Mom says, her eyes crinkling at the corner like they do when they’re starting to get damp with tears, either happy or sad or bittersweet. “I was so worried about the move since it you’re in the middle of high school, but you’ve already made friends and joined a club and found a place for yourself with people good for you. You seem so happy,” she says, cupping his cheek and running her thumbnail soft along his cheekbone.

“Thanks, Mom,” he says, because he doesn’t know what else there is. He leans down and kisses her cheek, telling her has to check in with his club director before he has to leave, and then heads out the side door of the gym he watched Bennett disappear through a handful of minutes ago.

Bennett’s in the club room like Austin predicted, and he looks up when the door clicks open, eyes widening before his face shutters off.

“I thought you might be here,” he says, and Bennett’s face goes even more stony.

“How astute of you,” Bennett spits, and Austin watches his hands tighten on his knees, the fabric of his pants crinkling slightly.

Austin wonders how upset Bennett really is, how much a Spelling Bee could really mean to him, especially when they’re both still moving on. He raises an eyebrow, but it’s more rote reaction than a real emotional response.

“You haven’t lost the entire world, Ben,” he says, walking forward, and the nickname feels strange and thick in his mouth, but it feels softer than his full first name.

“I’m aware of that,” Bennett says, and his voice has this strange sense of calm, too steady to be anything but fake, a brittle edge to the tone. “Is there anything else you want to tell me that I already know?”

Austin snorts at the sarcastic challenge. What a funny thing to hear such venom from the poster child for scholastic achievement. “I have never met anyone like you before in my entire life.”

“I’m flattered.” Bennett says, no inflection in his tone, before making to stand.

But Austin isn’t done. He moves to block Bennett putting his arms out to the side, boxing Ben in unless he decides to leap over another desk to get out of the aisle. “You’re just going to quit?” he asks, angling his voice lower, staring down at Bennett. Bennett’s eyes look huge and dark in the otherwise empty classroom, and he seems caught between letting all his emotions out in an eruption and keeping them contained. Austin can see it glittering in his eyes.

He wants to push him. He wants to see what Bennett’s been keeping on lock, what he’s capable of. He wants to see what the most composed person he’s ever met looks like when he breaks.

“I’m not quitting,” Bennett gets out, words gritted being squeezed out of his tense jaw that Austin can already see from here. “I went through that competition until the end, and I lost, so would you please leave me alone? You won, are you happy? You won.”

“I know,” Austin tells him. “And here you are ready to walk out the second you lost.” Austin knows that’s not true, that Bennett will come back even more viciously in Regionals, but he wants to wind him up more than he wants to be truthful while he does it.

“I’m not walking out,” Bennett replies, voice low and serious. It makes a shiver run up Austin’s spine, and he can’t tell if his body’s thrilling at it or warning him off.

“Really? Because that’s what it looks like to me.” Austin says, and he has to fight off the urge to lean closer, push Bennett more, crowd his space and push his patience. Not yet, he tells himself.

“I was here first. I wanted to be alone, and you came in, so I’m leaving.”

Austin isn’t ready to let Bennett cut this off yet. Not when he can see the cracks Ben’s trying to hold together. “Yeah, and walking out,” he says, petty, and not the best rebuttal, but Bennett’s angry enough he probably won’t care about the quality of the remark so much as the meaning of it.

Bennett takes a small step forward, surprising Austin when he thought Bennett would be doing everything to back away, and the tense expression he’d had locked down on the flood of his emotions melts away into a mean bare of his teeth. “Listen,” Bennett starts, and his voice is low and dangerous, hot coals on a dying fire still glowing, “I don’t know what is with you, but since the first day you showed up, you’ve thought it was hilarious to aggravate me. I don’t know what exactly about me makes you think I’m set up to be your own personal entertainment, but you might as well get knocked off that track right know, because I’m  _sick of it_.”

And there it is. Austin’s managed it, and now for the final nail in his plan. He smiles, and he can see the breaking in Bennett’s face, the crease of emotion at the corners of his eyes, the anger pulling his jaw locked and eyes narrowed. “Oh really? I hadn’t noticed.”

“You asshole,” Bennett snarls, “The world does not revolve around you. You may be smart, maybe even smarter than me,” Bennett pauses for a moment, like the words taste bitter to speak, “but you can bet that I’m not about to bend over and grovel to you. I’m not going down without a fight, and if I spend this whole time just making things harder for you, then I’ll damn take it, because you don’t deserve an easy ascent to getting everything I have.”

And fuck, that wasn’t what Austin thought was pissing Bennett off. He thought Bennett was upset about no longer being number one, throwing a tantrum when he didn’t earn his gold medals. But it means more to him than that, it seems.

Austin also gets this weird sense it’s not just about school, either.

But it doesn’t really matter. Bennett’s not his friend, he doesn’t really give a fuck. Besides, he’s already letting his emotions leak out all over the place, the damns he had in place breaking, and Austin wants to see how much he’d had on lock. Bennett’s always got more hidden than he expects, and he wants to see them spill out.

So, he drives his nails further under Bennett’s skin, using a tone nearly apathetic, slow and drawling and careless, to say, “Are you done talking yet?”

Bennett doesn’t even pause before snapping, “Make me,” right into Austin’s face.

And well, the opportunity is just too pretty and perfectly presented to pass up.

He cups Bennett’s face in his hands, leaning forward and done, hovering over Bennett. Ben tenses up, alarm flickering in his eyes for a moment before Austin tilts his head and presses into a kiss, slants their mouths together.

Austin’s kissed a lot of people, but Ben’s probably the only one he has to fuck with them, to try to get them to react negatively. He expects to get pushed away, to get hit, but Ben just lets out a little startled breath, body locked up. Austin doesn’t want to let this go, not yet, not when he’s so  _close_ , not when it’d be so easy to push Bennett further.

So he uses the small gasp to push his own lip into the space, catches Bennett’s upper lip between his own.

He can hear Bennett take in a frustrated breath, harsh through his nose, and he thinks this is when he’ll be pushed away, but instead Bennett pushes into it. Ben’s obviously not the most experienced kisser, but there’s something precise about the way he approaches it, the way he seems to be about everything, zeroing in with all of his focus and giving his all. He’ll go form licking along the seam of Austin’s lips to sucking his bottom lip into his mouth, and then biting it before he tilts his head, opening his mouth wide to work their jaws together.

It’s setting Austin off balance, and he can remember why this started, why he did this, but it doesn’t seem to matter in the that he’s falling away into the slick movement of their mouths together.

Austin leans forward, probably putting too much weight onto Bennett, but he doesn’t care, making a desperate sound into his mouth. He moves one hand up from cupping Ben’s jaw to cradling the back of his head, twisting his fingers into the strands.

Ben seems to rock back at that, his own hands coming up clutch at Austin’s back, one reaching out so his fingers almost curl up over Austin’s shoulder, the other planted in the centre of his back between his shoulder blades, hand getting a grip full of Austin’s shirt.

“Holy shit, Ben,” he pulls back just enough to say into the spaces between their mouths, words nearly just breathe, and he should be embarrassed, but he’s not. He doesn’t like Bennett, but all that contained fire is finding a way to spill out, and fuck does it ever fuel a kiss unlike any he’s had before.

There’s a desperate urgency, a battle, a way of arguing without words but meeting together in a way they couldn’t manage with them.

Bennett pulls back the same time he does, and he doesn’t know whether to insult him further or compliment him, he’s all jumbled up now. He liked the kiss a lot, and he’s not sure he can lie about that, at least to himself, but he still doesn’t like Bennett, still wants to push him, and the kiss didn’t work that way like he meant it to.

Bennett looks ruffled, even more of an effect because of the way he normally seems so put together and in control. They just watch each for a minute, gauging, and Austin watches the shock wear off and the wariness slowly seep back into his eyes, expression shuttering off to go guarded.

Austin ends up speaking first, unable to come up with anything but, “Well, that wasn’t how I expected that to go.”

Bennett’s face immediately goes severe, angry and flat, mouth deep in a scowl. Austin has to hold back a snort. “To think they call you the Ice Queen,” he says, deeply amused that everyone seems convinced that Ben’s like water calm as glass, nothing under the surface.

“I hate that nickname,” Bennett says, surprising Austin yet again. He should probably stop thinking he has him pinned down, because then he always rips out the nails.

Austin hums. “Of course you do.”

Bennett narrows his eyes, and oh this is just too easy. He pulls up a nickname he’s been referring to Ben as in Scholastic Club. “I know, I’ll call you Netter.”

The incredulous look on Bennett’s face immediately makes it worth it. “ _Netter?_ ”

“Yeah, Netter. For how you score points for our team. Matches your name, Ben _nett_ ,” He tells him, and then winks to drive the point home. Bennett looks disgusted. It’s beautiful.

“You’re an idiot, I don’t know how you won that goddamn Spelling Bee,” Bennett tells him, surprising Austin that he brought up the wound again so soon.

“And you’re a better kisser than I thought,” Austin says, partly to try to fluster him, but also because well… he is.

He turns and walks out then, leaving Bennett alone, hoping to put him a little more off balance.


	5. Chp 15 Austin POV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 20 Questions Austin's POV.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry if this seems a bit boring for how much of it has to be repeated from Bennett’s view without having changed. Though that could just be me from all the copying and checking I had to do, so.

“Ten each adds up to twenty,” Bennett says, turning away from him, and Austin can see the feigned casualness, the reality of his nerves in the tension stretched across his shoulders.

“That’s not how it works,” Austin tells him, partially just for the sake of pushing Bennett, partially because it really isn’t, because he gets the feeling he won’t get this kind of chance again.

“Do you want to ask any questions or not?” Ben snaps, and yeah, he does actually.

“Fine,” he says, mostly to calm Bennett more than to agree, but he can see it have the opposite effect as Ben’s fingers tighten for a moment on the spine of the book he’s picked up.

“We’ll take turns,” Bennett says, voice just a little calmer, like he’s working his own way there.

Austin agrees with a hum. “Fair. I’ll go first. What’s your heritage?”

Bennett looks over his shoulder at him, obviously surprised for a moment before he turns back around, hiding his expression as he answers. “Half-Japanese and Half-American. My mother’s fully Japanese and was born there, but she met my dad and I was born here. My Dad’s family is American pretty fair back so there isn’t much point in calling him anything but American.” Bennett glances over his shoulder once more, gauging how Austin takes that information, and he keeps his face carefully neutral.

“Yeah, my family’s pretty thoroughly American too, though that’s on both sides. I’m pretty much all white. My maternal grandparents are German though.” Austin says, fiddling with a paper clip on the table that someone must have left unneeded. “Anyways, your turn.”

He wonders idly if Ben speaks Japanese, what that sounds like in his voice, frequently caught just on the edge of brittle anger, water moving smooth over rocks starting to freeze into ice.

But even if it was his turn, which it’s not, there’s things he wants to know more.

Bennett obviously thinks for a second, fiddling with the books on the counter before he seems to steel himself and make the decision to face Austin head on for this. When he turns, Austin has to fight to keep from tensing instinctively, expecting some sort of question on his character, his motive, something he’s not going to like hearing.

Instead, what Ben asks him is, “what’s it like having a sister?”

Austin supposes that’s not that out of character, and Bennett looks sincere, if tensed with nerves, a string pulled taught. Austin decides not to push that one. He’s constantly being caught by surprise anyway, thinking he has Bennett figured out and being wrong over and over. He turns his mind to the question, snorting as he thinks of Gem. “She’s a pain in the ass.”

He expects Bennett to look startled, expression cracked wide open, but he’s surprised yet again as Bennett just raises an eyebrow at him, all sardonic expression and voice as he says, “are you going to give any specificity to that?”

Austin can feel his nose scrunching up. “She’s  _twelve_. I think that’s all the explanation you need.”

Ben blinks then, looking a bit off balance, and telling that he obviously didn’t fully catch his meaning Austin elaborates, “Twelve is the devil’s age, trust me. She used to look up to me a lot, but now she spends all of her time like she’s trying to mess with me.”

Bennett’s voice drops into dry mocking, “Trying to, or is?” Austin might be a bit more amused if he wasn’t annoyed, which is probably exactly what Bennett was trying to do. Austin narrows his eyes at him, and Bennett’s mouth curls up at the corner for just a moment before he manages to quell it back into a more subdued, if still smug, smile.

“Shut up, I can take her,” Austin argues.

“You keep telling yourself that.”

Austin flips him the bird, and he can see Ben biting his lip on a smile. He’s never out of surprises, is he?

“Whatever,” Austin says, partially to himself and partially to Bennett. “You got any siblings?”

“Is that your question?” Ben asks, tapping a finger on the counter at his hip.

“Sure,” Austin says, then holds a hand up. “No wait, I want all of your family.”

“You want me to recite my whole family tree?” Bennett drawls, sarcastic like he can’t help it.

Austin rolls his eyes. “Quit being a smartass. Immediate family.”

Ben shrugs. “I live with my Mom, and I have a Dad. That’s about it.”

Austin scrutinizes him, and noticing the specific wording of that. “You don’t live with your Dad?”

“No,” Bennett says, short, and immediately cuts to the next question. “What’s your birthday?”

“June 19th,” Austin replies, instant if not still somewhat distracted, and then can’t help but ask, “Why are your parents apart?”

“They got divorced, like most separated parents do,” Ben says, sarcastic on the surface, but there’s something fragile to the words, and usually Austin would push, but he knows better than to over this.

“Alright, you ask me,” Austin says, giving Bennett his breathing space.

“Why’d you move?”

Austin grins then, surprised but pleased. “Nothing suspicious, if you think we’re a family of fugitives or in witness protection or something. My Dad just got offered a better job around here.” Bennett seems to take that at face value, nothing in his face wavering to say he doesn’t believe Austin, so he goes on. He can’t help but be a bit of a shit, knowing how much he’s pushed Bennett, wanting to know, “do you have any nicknames for me?”

Ben looks a little incredulous at that, caught off guard, but he shakes his head. “No I don’t.”

Austin believes him, even if he almost wishes he didn’t. Bennett doesn’t call him anything but his name? Really? “That’s so boring. I’m just Austin in your head?”

Bennett replies, sarcastic, “What, you think of me as Netter?”

And Austin doesn’t obviously, so he doesn’t reply, pushes his hair out of his eyes as he waits for Ben to formulate his next question.

“Are you really a natural genius?” Bennett asks, something slightly hesitant to the words.

Austin laughs. “Yeah. I have a mind that’s naturally geared for calculations along with being naturally good at memorization. Have you ever heard of mnemonists?”

Ben shrugs. “I’ve heard of mnemonics. Learning strategies like acronyms, right?”

Haroldes nodes. “Yeah, mnemonists are naturally good at creating and using those to memorize things. I think that’s how I work, though I don’t know for sure since all my basis is off of google searching.”

Bennett snorts.

Austin can tell Ben feels he’s gotten his answer, so he leans forward, braces his forearms on his knees as he asks, “Okay, when’s  _your_  birthday?”

He expects Bennett to look uncomfortable, but he barely blinks as he answers, “September 17th.”

Austin thinks that through for a moment, and then tilts his head as it clicks. “Virgo. Fitting.”

Bennett frowns, thinking for a moment, tapping his finger on the counter again. After a minute, he looks up, then boosts himself up to sit on the counter by the hands he’d already had braced on it. “Do you have any other insane talents?”

It’s such a dumb question after the wait. “Not really. I’m a little athletic, and I like it, but it’s never hooked me that much to be my thing.”

Bennett tilts his head. “Really?”

Austin shrugs, unsure why that’s interesting. It makes him a little uncomfortable not to be in complete control, not to be able to direct this like he expected, but he’s determined not to let it get away from him. “Yeah, played little league as a kid and did pick-up games of any type with the kids from my neighbourhood, and I was always good in gym, but there was never anything I loved enough to commit to long term. What about you? Any hobbies?”

Ben pulls his feet up and sits cross-legged on the desk instead. “I play piano.”

Austin can feel his own surprise. “For real?”

Ben smiles a little. “Yes, for real. Been doing it since I was six.”

Austin gives a low whistle at that. “Ten years, damn. You’ll have to play for us sometime.”

Bennett shrugs, looking a little tense. “I’m not promising anything.”

“Come on, you must have a piano at your house,” Austin wheedles.

Bennett tenses up even further, looking like he’s resisting just pulling his shoulders up by his ears. “Yes,” he says. That seems to be all, because he just thinks for a moment before asking, “What’s your best class?”

Austin snorts, and Bennett narrows his eyes. “Dude, that’s such a lame question.”

Ben only shrugs a shoulder, evidently choosing to stick to his question.

“Whatever,” Austin says, going with it, “I’m the best at math and physics, though I generally like physics more. I can do better or worse depending on subject.”

Bennett gives him a sour look, easy to interpret.

“What?” Austin counters, defensive. “I hate probability, okay? That one question where in a game show they ask you to pick a door and after revealing the door that doesn’t have a prize you can either stay with your choice or switch? And how the probability of that works? Fucking ridiculous, probability can suck a dick.”

Bennett rolls his eyes. “You mean the Monty Hall problem?”

“Yes!” Austin says, pointing a finger at him, because  _honestly_. “I would pick Monty Python over that Monty any time.”

Bennett snorts. “Okay, good to know.”

Austin moves on, because really, enough of that. “Okay, so, no siblings, no Dad around. Do you have pets at least?”

“No.” Ben says. “And I  _know_  you don’t, so that’d be a wasted question.” Austin grins at that, because, well, true.

Ben gets quiet then for a while, looking hesitant, like he wants to ask a question but isn’t sure he should. Austin can feel anticipation rising in his chest, if careful, controlled Bennett is on the edge of whether he should do this or not, Austin wants to know what he’s thinking of asking.

He’s not disappointed. Bennett takes a breath, like he’s bracing himself, and Austin shifts, knowing he’s about to ask. “Are you…” He frowns. “Are you actually into guys at all, or is this all just to mess with me?”

Oh.

That’s … not what he thought Ben was going to ask. And to be honest, he feels pretty awful that it is something Bennett feels he needs to. “Yeah, I am. I mean, generally speaking, I’m more attracted to girls than guys, and most of the time it’s not worth it to act on anything with guys.”

He waits a moment, but Bennett doesn’t say anything about that either. He feels a bit uncomfortable, under the microscope, more of an asshole than usual, or at least like someone has come forward and proven to him that it’s not all fun and games to play with people. “What about you?” he directs to Bennett.

Bennett blinks, and there’s that expression Austin expected earlier – looking off balance, cracked open. “I… I don’t know,” he says, looking uncomfortable, and Austin knows he’s going to go home and think about this part a lot more than Austin will, which doesn’t make him feel any better. He just hums to let Bennett know he accepts that answer.

“What about Scholastic Club? Debate Team? Did you join those because you wanted to?” Bennett throws out, almost like he’s trying to use the words as weapons. Austin wonders if it’s because of what Austin just asked, or because he joined just to have a better chance aggravating Bennett, which they both well know. Or at least, that was his intention – he’s not so sure now, why he’s still around.

Austin drums his fingers on the desk, mulling over how he wants to answer this. “Not really, at first. Now that I’ve got a taste, I like it, but at first I wasn’t sure it was my thing. I’m kind of the type that’s used to having things come naturally to me, at least academically.” He pauses then, hand stilling as he can feel himself getting a little more serious. “And, to be honest, I like everyone involved now too. They’re my friends.” He looks at hands for a moment, thinking about everyone in the group, about how Bennett’s this weird part of it, like the eye of a storm, the center but quieter, less involved. He doesn’t want to make it seem like Ben cares less for it, but he just… doesn’t know. He lifts his head, eyes on Bennett again. “You’re probably going to get angry at me for this, but I have to ask. You do consider them your friends, right?”

Bennett’s skin goes a little pink, obviously worked up. “Yes.”

Austin holds his hands out, trying to calm him a little, let himself explain. “I figured that was the answer, but… you’re not exactly  _affectionate_ , Netter. Had to wonder just a little bit if you were just hanging out with them because you needed some people to in order to keep enough favour to say in school council and stuff, and that they were the smartest people in the school by virtue of being in Scholastic Club, so you picked them.”

Bennett looks away, and he seems deep in thought for a while, reflecting over that. Austin leaves him alone. Even if he didn’t like to push Bennett’s limits, make him question himself, he can see he needs the time to think right now, to absorb.

Finally, Bennett turns to him again. “They’re my friends,” Ben says, soft, and Austin knows he means it, that Bennett likes to twist things to be presently differently, to look better, but he rarely lies. That there’s too much emotion and rawness and quiet in that for him not to mean it.

“I know,” Austin tells him, because he does, he’s sure of it now. “Your turn.”

Bennett pauses for only a second. “Did you only make friends with them to get further under my skin?”

It’s a pretty legit question. “A little. I mean, I liked them on their own, but I doubt I would have tried so hard if I wasn’t trying to get more of a rise out of you.”

Bennett seems to believe that, which is good, because Austin means it. He hasn’t lied in any of his answers, but there’s some more bare honesty in some of his answers than he expected he’d have to give.

He forcibly moves himself on. “Okay,” he says, catching Ben’s attention as with it as well. He rubs his palms together, anticipating. “Last question.”

Although he doesn’t really have a specific last question. He wants it to be good, with his last chance. He’s had tons of idea run through his head since the moment he suggested twenty questions, but this is his last shot, and he doesn’t want to waste it. It needs to have impact too, not just be something he wants to know – he wants this last one to stick, to feel more than just arbitrary, especially with how serious some of their last few were.

Ben seems to get tired of him not verbalizing the reason for his pause, though. “Well?” he says, raising an eyebrow.

“Sorry,” Austin says. “I’m just trying to decide what to ask you as the last question.” He hums to himself, thinking. He looks back at Bennett, as though that will give him some idea of what to ask, but Bennett just stares back with a completely flat expression. What could make that waver, he wonders? What could ask that he hasn’t already, that doesn’t push the boundaries of cruelty, but will make Ben squirm at least a little?

Then it hits him. And oh, its just too good for him to pass up.

“Are you a virgin?”

Bennett’s face seems to drain of colour, which is already a great reaction. “What the  _fuck?_ ”

“Seriously,” Austin insists. He is not letting Bennett get away from this now.

“None of your fucking business,” Ben bites back immediately.

Austin can’t help from baiting him, tilting his head like he’s thinking over something idle. “I don’t know. We’ve already made out multiple times and who knows what comes after that.”

Ben only glares at him, completely silent. He almost thinks it’s better than anything he could have said.

“Just answer it and get it over with,” Austin tells him, rolling his eyes, a little exasperated by his tantrum, as fun as it is.

Bennett’s expression doesn’t change, but he manages to let out, “Yes.”

Which, Austin expected that, yeah. But it’s so much better to hear it admitted out loud, to make Bennett tell it to him.

“Are you going to ask me?” he baits.

Ben hesitates, but eventually he uncrosses his legs, and bites his lip before trying, “Did you… Have you…”

“Have I done the nasty?” he finishes, raising his eyebrows.

Bennett’s face flushes with colour, and he narrows his eyes at Austin, not amused by the way he’s messing with him.

Austin takes pity on him. Sort of. “Yeah, I have,” Austin admits. “Only with one girlfriend though. Never been with a guy.”

Bennett obviously catches that little bit of implication, because his blush gets even darker before he slides off the desk. “Well, great, we got through all the questions.”

“You’re embarrassed,” Austin points out, maybe a little gleeful with it, but he can’t help it now that Ben’s face has gone so much redder and he’s obviously fleeing the topic.

“Piss off,” Bennett mutters, turning back to the stacks of books, as well as strategically turning his back to Austin.

He doesn’t feel bad, exactly, about pushing Bennett’s comfortable topics, but he still figures that he could use a little reassurance, that his experiences in a romantic and sexual regard aren’t where Austin’s pushing him to change, to reflect on himself.

And maybe a little of it has to do with Ben’s bowed head, the slips of dark hair over his curved nape, running down into his collar, his spine looking so delicate and bared. He presses in, fits himself up against Bennett’s back, and can feel the spasm as his breathing rhythm changes in surprise for just a moment. He leans down, puts his mouth at Ben’s ear so it’s easy to tell him, sincere, “You don’t have to feel stupid at being embarrassed by it.”

“I don’t feel stupid,” Bennett mumbles, maybe more to himself than Austin, not looking back at him.

He can see he’s probably not helping much here, but he wanted to get that out, since he’s the one that pushed Bennett here. He kisses just under the skin of Ben’s ear, telling him, “I’ll leave you to your work,” before he pulls away.

He gathers up his things, glancing over at Bennett a few times as he does, and then leaves to give him his space.


End file.
